


Ridiculous Ladybug

by JohnnyRickS, stavroginova



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Age Changes, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Gaming, Heavy Angst, Homelessness, JuleRose mentioned, Mentioned Alya Césaire and Nino Lahiffe, Multi, Musicians, Post-Season/Series 03, Romance, Streaming, Swearing, Timeskip, aged up AU, ladrien
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:15:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22367776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnnyRickS/pseuds/JohnnyRickS, https://archiveofourown.org/users/stavroginova/pseuds/stavroginova
Summary: One rainy night, Bunnyx appears, offering Ladybug condolences. Nothing bad has happened. Yet.What's gonna happen?Multichapter College AU. The gang is now in their 20s and not coping with it.
Relationships: Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Juleka Couffaine & Luka Couffaine, Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 10
Kudos: 34





	1. Under the Bridge

**Author's Note:**

> Tags will be added with the new chapters.
> 
> There is probably going to be more than 13 chapters. We'll burn that bridge when we come to it.
> 
> There are rumours about an existence of a playlist with songs referenced by the chapter titles. So far they have been unconfirmed.

It was a dark and stormy night. Streaks of torrential rain seemingly discouraged Parisians from evil-doing. Ladybug hid under Pont D’Lena, sat down and hunched over the waters of Seine flownig under her feet. The streets were empty. There was clearly no need for superheroics tonight, but she didn’t want to go home just yet.

A giggling couple hurried past her, hiding under a yellow umbrella. They didn’t even notice the saviour of Paris on their way to some drier, warmer place. Ladybug got used to that: business was slow lately, to say the least. Either Hawkmoth got lazy or finally found himself a better hobby. Or maybe he ran out of miserable people to torment and Paris has officially become the happiest city in the world. Ladybug looked deep into the troubled waters and promptly excluded the last possibility. 

She wished she had an umbrella. She could limp back home and hide under the blankets until morning. With a bucket of ice cream, or, preferably, a bottle of wine. 

Well, the rain has never stopped before just because someone was whining about it, so umbrella or not, she’d have to eventually get out from under the bridge and get soaked. Reluctantly, she got up, turned away from the river and got blinded by light, suddenly appearing right in front of her. 

It was an umbrella, a white one, with a tall, red-haired woman attached. Truly, a miracle. Or it would be, if Bunnix has ever appeared carrying good news before. Ladybug hoped she didn’t audibly groan and asked: 

“Bonsoir Bunnyx, what do you guys need help with this time?” 

Bunnyx's face was much more solemn than that time her signing a gift to her high school crush somehow ended with the destruction of the entire world and half the moon. 

“How are you doing, Not-So-Minibug?” Bunnyx quickly flashed her teeth in a smile, finding her bearings. “Love the hairstyle.” 

“Thanks.” Ladybug chuckled nervously. “I love your outfit!” She could feel her eyelid start to twitch. 

“Thank you,” Bunnyx nervously squeezed her furry ball. “You can never commit a fashion faux pas if you always wear the same thing, right?” 

“...Right.” Ladybug looked at her own suit, like it didn’t also look the same every time. 

“How’s Paris doing? I actually left the town for a while back now.” 

“It’s calmer? I think Hawkmoth is getting as tired of doing this as I am.” Ladybug chuckled. “But somebody has to get down cats stuck in trees. Wouldn’t want to waste emergency services’ time.” 

“You’re a hero through and through, Ladybug.” 

“Yeah, and The Owl retired.” 

“Finally!” 

“The mayor threw him a party and everything. There was this huge cake from the Dupain bakery.” 

“Only the best for the heroes of Paris! That’s so nice.” 

“So...” Somebody had to say it first. “How’s future? I guess not so calm, right?” Ladybug tried to cover up how tense she was with a laugh. It sounded pitiful. 

Bunnyx gave her a sad smile. 

“I was sent here by Ladybug from the future”, she sighed, obviously delaying getting to the point. Current Ladybug wasn’t sure if she was glad about it or eager to just hear the dreadful news. “She told me you’d need some support because of what happened. She says-” 

“What happened, Alix?” 

“What?” 

“What happened? To make me need support from my older version.” She felt a cold chill creeping up her spine, reaching her neck and causing her ears to ring. “What is it?” 

“Oh.” Bunnyx just opened her mouth. Realistically, Ladybug knew that they could have been standing there and staring at each other for a couple of seconds at most, but to her it felt like hours. “Sorry, nevermind”, mumbled Bunnyx. And dissapeared. 

“Bunnyx!” Ladybug yelled after her, but the only answer was more rain splashing on the streets. She sighed tiredly. Yet another time-travel based riddle. Bunnyx’ style could use a shakeup. Then she processed what the Rabbit Superhero has said. 

“Fuck,” she whispered. “I need to call my parents."


	2. Wayward Child

Marinette was talking to her purse as she made her way from the metro station in the pouring rain, no longer protected by the waterproof superhero suit, wet and miserable, and for a moment she felt like she was fifteen again. The purse made a soft whining sound, because it was getting wet and miserable as well.

“Just a moment, Tikki. We’ll get somewhere warm soon.”

“It’s okay, Marinette,” Tikki’s squeaky voice was the only thing in her life that never seemed to change, which was to be expected from a creature that’s been around since before humans existed. “What are you gonna say to your parents?”

“I don’t know.” Marinette didn’t want to think about that until after she saw the bakery, safe, whole and definitely not up in flames. After she detransformed, it turned out her phone has died. Superhero or not, you need to remember about charging your phone. “You really don’t know what Bunnyx was doing here?”, she tried to change the subject.

“Even us Kwamis can’t tell the future. Maybe it was an honest mistake and everything is fine!”

“Tikki, it was Bunnyx. How fine can it be? The only question is whatever the big, catastrophic thing is. And whether it already happened or not, I guess”.

“That’s two questions, Marinette”.

“Were you always a smart ass, Tikki?”.

“Kwamis are never smart asses, we are always nice and helpful!’ lied Tikki.

Right when Marinette was just about ready to retire as a superhero, they reached the bakery. It was seemingly still in one piece. The lights were on, and she could see her Dad preparing the morning batch of bread.

“Shit. Tikki, what time is it?”

Marinette expected her kwami to produce a tiny ladybug themed pocket watch, but Tikki just knew: “Oh, about four a.m.”.

“What? Four a.m.?”. Marinette stopped. It seemed everything was fine and maybe it was time to get to bed already. In the morning it’s gonna turn out it was all a dream anyway. For sure. But it was too late for that. Her father has already noticed her peeking outside the window. He ran out of the bakery and called out to his daughter, visibly, and understandably, worried.

“Marinette? Is everything okay, sweetheart? Come in, quick! I’ll give you something to eat.” He must have guessed that one of the steps of having one’s 21-year-old daughter suddenly appear on your doorstep at 4 in the morning, soaking wet, is feeding her. He guessed correctly, because Marinette was, as she just realised, starving.

After observing his daughter almost fit a whole croissant into her mouth, Thomas resumed the worried questioning:

“What are you doing here at this time of the night? Cause I don’t suppose you just missed making bread with your old father.”

“We had classes until late,” Marinette replied with her default excuse before she remembered what time it was.

“I know college is hard, dear, but I don’t think any of them have classes until 3 am. It’s okay to have a little fun when you’re twenty years old. I just wonder what happened.”

“Nothing, really,” she reached for another croissant. Sometimes she wished she could just tell her parents about the double life she lead; it never felt good to blatantly lie to the people she loved. On the other hand, they had enough worries without knowing their only child spent her days battling supervillains. “I guess... I got a weird feeling, that’s all. I haven’t seen you two in a long time, and my phone died... Is mom okay?”

“Mom is fine. She should be getting up in an hour.” Tom set aside a tray of buns with a heavy sigh. “Are you sure everything is fine, Marinette? You can always come back home.”

Marinette stayed silent, wondering if she should stay with her parents for the night. Day. Whatever. She was relieved to know they were safe and sound, but she had plenty of other people to worry about as well, and for some reason, sitting in the bakery she grew up in was making her inexplicably sad.

“You should have never moved out to live with your boyfriend!” Her father exclaimed in a pained voice. “I told your mother, that boy is bad news!”

“Dad, I’m okay, everything is fine, I just had classes run late and didn’t have a chance to go to sleep, really, you don’t need to worry.” She was pretty sure her father would be akumatized already if Hawkmoth hadn’t seemingly retired. Alright, fine, it wasn’t her best day, or night, and she probably looked like death warmed up, but her father couldn’t be farther from the truth. “I’m just tired. It’s late.”

“You must know I never really liked the boy, Marinette.” Thomas sighed sadly. Marinette half expected the ground to tremble. “I mean, I can’t trust him, can I? He’s not exactly a bread maker, is he now?”

“Dad! Not everybody must be a baker!”

“It’s not what I meant! Did he ever have a job? He doesn’t strike me as the most responsible man in the world...” He paused and a couple spasms shook his huge shoulders. After a second, shocked Marinette realised: her father was crying. He never let her see him cry, not even when grandma Gina had died tragically in a motorbike accident. Feeling the tears welling up in her eyes, she got up and embraced him. “You know Marinette... if he ever hurt you... I don’t know what I would do”.

Marinette remembered when he became akuma’s victim years ago. If that’s how he reacted to a simple misunderstanding, she was afraid of what he could do, even without superpowers. She realised that her father isn’t really the gentle and jovial giant he appears to be. As she grew up, it started to dawn on her how much worry and anxiety her parents were dealing with, especially with supervillains at every corner. However, it really hit her when she started to mention her plans to move out to another part of the city, with a boyfriend no less.

“Oh, dad, please don’t worry,” she walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Why would he ever hurt me? We’re fine.”

Tom shook his head.

“You’re so young. You shouldn’t have moved out to live with your boyfriend already. You need to focus on your studies.”

“It has nothing to do with him. I’m fine. I’m just tired.”

“Remember when you invited over that black cat superhero fella? At least that one had a job.”

“I don’t think they get paid to be superheroes, dad. And he hasn’t been around that much, really.”

“Probably doing something useful with his life.”

“ _Dad.”_

_“_ Alright, alright. At least stay here and get some sleep. It’s Friday, there’s no need to run around in the storm.”

Marinette, still really soaked and really exhausted, could only smile and give in to the temptation of staying in a warm bed and not going anywhere. Her parents were safe and sound. The fate of the world could wait a few hours until she got some sleep.

On her way upstairs she ran into her mother, who was much calmer, possibly because she just woke up, and didn’t pay much attention to her sudden appearance. She just got her a towel and some clean bedsheets and told her to go to sleep. Marinette wasn’t about to complain.

As she reached the top of the ladder – honestly, moving out to an apartment on the second floor was a good decision in that department – all she managed to do was throw herself down on the bare mattress. Something flew out from under it and softly landed on the floor.

Marinette turned her head to look at it. Fifteen year old Adrien Agreste looked back at her from a picture, cut out from a magazine. That was strange. She thought she’d thrown them all away when she grew out of her obsessive phase.

She picked it up to take a closer look. She could remember the title and the exact issue of the fashion magazine which featured that photoshoot. She bought three copies just for herself. The memory should have made her cringe, but now it just felt like a remnant of simpler times.   
  
She fell asleep clinging onto the picture, like when she was younger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out remaint is not a word, @stavroginova


	3. Tattoo’d Lady

Marinette ended up spending most of the next day at her parents’ house and came back to her apartment the next evening with a week’s supply of baked goods. When she walked in, Juleka was making herself breakfast while talking on the phone. Smells from Marinette’s bag attracted her attention.

“Hang on for a sec, Ma Fleurette. Marinette! I was so worried about you! I missed you so much!”

“Hello, Juleka. I’m fine, was at my parents”, answered Marinette while handing her a baguette. Seeing Juleka make it disappear so quickly was downright disturbing. “How’s Rose? Say hello for me.”

“Oh, she’s fine. Can you believe they have better weather in Prague than here? So unfair!” said Juleka and went back to her call.

Marinette took a shower and changed. When she got out Juleka was waiting for her right outside the door. A lot about her has changed, but she still had the ability to become perfectly unnoticeable when she wanted to. After helping her get up and inspecting a bump she got while jumping into a door frame by getting startled, Juleka asked whether Marinette will be home on Monday at 11 a.m.

“Yeah, I should be home, why?”

“I’ll be getting some packages, but I’m working Sunday night.” Juleka got over her debilitating shyness by becoming a streamer. Because most of her audience was in America, she usually worked at night. Marinette had no right to complain, as most of their groceries were funded by Juleka’s obsessive fans.

“Oh, sure, I should get them for you. How’s streaming going for you?”

“Fine, bit of a slower night today, only made, like, fifty euros”

“Oh.”

“But I sold my feet pics for a thousand a night before.”

“Oh!”, Marinette hesitated. “Is Rose fine with that?”

“Sure, she watches me stream pretty often.”

“No, I meant the feet pics part.”

“Oh, sure, why not. I send them to her, free of charge, all the time! You know. For approval.” Marinette could only hope her perplexion wasn’t too visible. “And better believe me”, Juleka continued with a shit-eating grin, “she approves.”

Marinette looked at her feet, partially in embarrassment, partially to inspect them. A thousand euros for feet pics… She was sure Juleka was kidding. She really couldn’t judge her – but she sure was surprised that someone was buying them. Now, how much could Ladybug’s feet be worth on that market? Of course, it would be hard to verify that they really are the world’s most famous superheroine’s feet – after all, she couldn’t really take off her shoes, or anything for that matter, while in uniform. She made a mental note and filed it in ‘something to consider’ tray.

“Anyway, do you have plans for the evening?” asked Juleka. “Maybe you could come on stream and play some Ultimate Mecha Strike Ultimate? I just got it and it would be nice to have someone competent to play against for once.”

Ultimate Mecha Strike Ultimate… She’s been dying to play that game, came out about a month ago, but she didn’t own any piece of hardware to run it. Only NASA had good enough computers. And, as it turned out, Juleka. She didn’t even think to ask her.

On the other hand… Marinette looked at Juleka, still in her pyjamas, hesitantly. Magenta hair, looking like it may, by some miracle of modern cosmetology, glow in the dark. Arms covered in tattoos which looked like thorny rose branches, blooming on her shoulders. And… other big qualities that no doubt contributed to her popularity online. Also, now that Marinette looked at them, her feet were indeed amazing. “Umm, I don’t know if I’m presentable enough to go in front of the camera, Juleka”, she mumbled.

“Oh don’t worry, it’s gonna be fine. I have a nice sack somewhere in my room, you can wear that over your head. Maybe then I’ll even beat you,” she chuckled.

“Besides, I have tons of work to catch up on! And I need to call Alya!” She had tried to call Alya in case she and Nino died in a fire yesterday. Alya didn’t pick up the phone earlier, so her current status was ‘probably busy, presumably deceased’. Marinette already picked out her funeral outfit, but she really should have given them another chance. “Maybe some other time!”

“It’s just you look very stressed, and you seemed to be quite down lately…” Juleka looked down at her with concern. “Okay, how about that: just you and me, no guys looking at us? I don’t start for at least two more hours, and you really need to have some fun.”

“You know what, I do miss fun.” Marinette smiled sheepishly. “But I really need to call Alya. Launch your fancy computing machine, and I’ll join you in fifteen minutes, okay?”

Girls retreated into their rooms. Marinette picked up the phone, but before she could dial Alya’s number, it rang. Alya! She picked up quickly.

“Hi, Alya! Is everything okay with you and Nino?” Asked Marinette hurriedly.

“Hii, yeah, sure, everything is fine.” Alya sounded confused, but thankfully alive. Further investigation needed – maybe it was her ghost. “Are you okay? You sound kinda scary, girl.”

Marinette mumbled a noncommittal affirmative sound.

“Sorry I couldn’t pick up earlier”, Alya continued, “but I had quite a day at work. We had reports about Cat Noir resurfacing finally.” Marinette forgot to breathe for a second. She had as much of a clue as anybody about what happened to Cat Noir. One day he just wasn’t there, and she was sure it was because of something she had done. “I spent the whole day going around Melun, interviewing people, you wouldn’t believe the state of my goddamn feet, girl. Anyway, it turns out it wasn’t Cat Noir. It was just a normal black cat! Granted, it was huge, but it wasn’t even a particularly human-like cat. No way people in Paris would make that mistake.”

“Ha, ha. That’s crazy, Alya!” Marinette was trying very hard not to give away that she almost suffocated a minute ago. “What’s next? Hawkmoth in Beauvais?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe how many times have we got calls about akuma sightings, Marinette. Always a particularly eye striking butterfly, without fail. Being the station’s superhero gossip expert can be so annoying. It’s not that they do anything interesting nowadays.”

“Come on, I’m sure Ladybug helps a lot of people!” protested Marinette. She had to stop on the way home to help victims of a huge traffic accident. Of course, since Alya was sightseeing in Melun, it won’t even make the news. Bunch of hacks.

“You have a hot tip for me, Marinette? You must tell me! But not over the phone, it may be tapped!” If journalism failed, Alya could pursue a career in acting. “We must meet at Bistro d’Exupery, Monday, lunch time, to discuss it.”

“Oh, sorry, I don’t have anything concrete.”

“Too bad.” She sounded so dejected. The girl should take up acting. “You’re still gonna need to eat on Monday, right?”

“I sure hope I am!”

“So 1 p.m. on Monday?”

“With pleasure!”

“See you there! Sorry, I have to go now, I’m sure Nino needs me badly right about now.” Her boyfriends laughter was clearly audible in the background. And then Alya hung up.

This time she heard Juleka sneaking outside her bedroom. “Fifteen minutes are uup!” She informed her in singsong voice. They went to the Reflecta’s kingdom (that was the alias Juleka was using, thankfully without the costume). Marinette was a little rusty, and they changed control scheme for no apparent reason, so it was harder for her than usually. Juleka even won (one round). Marinette had to give her all, stop letting herself down, and motherfucking obliterate the bitch. And she did. And she did.

Something about colourful characters jumping around the screen awoke a vicious streak in her. She had to win, even if it killed her, and nothing else mattered.

“Hi girls!” called someone far, far away. She ignored it as clearly not related to winning, and Juleka shook her arm gently. Marinette looked in the direction of the voice finally. The sight of Luka, clearly amused, sobered her up. She walked up to him, rose onto her toes and kissed him tenderly.

Luka turned to Juleka. “No kiss from you?”

“Piss off!”

Marinette laughed. “Sorry, Juleka, but you promised me no guys. I must go now.”

“Sure, have fun.”

It was only after she locked the door to Juleka’s lair and was left alone with Luka in the dimly lit corridor that it hit her how relieved she was to see him, back at home, safe and sound. Bunnyx really did a number on her this time.

She couldn’t help jumping into his arms.

“Whoa, Marinette,” Luka stumbled a bit as he caught her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Was I really gone so long?”

“No. And I wasn’t home anyway.” Marinette placed a hand on his cheek. “I just love you, you know?”


	4. While My Guitar Gently Weeps

Marinette woke up on a sunny Monday morning to a melody playing right next to her ear. She wondered what song it was for a while, as it sounded familiar; then realised she’s never heard it before, but she’d recognise Luka’s playing anywhere.

“What is it?” She asked, rubbing her eyes and slowly pulling herself up.

“It’s a new one.” Luka was sitting on the edge of the bed in a t-shirt and sweatpants, with his hair in mess. There were definitely worse things to wake up to, such as most of them. “It’s what you sound like when you’re asleep.”

Marinette chuckled. “You never told me that I snore.”

“No, no, no.” Luka got visibly flustered and she didn’t mind it one bit. “Your soul, Marinette. When it’s at peace, drifting somewhere far away… Dreaming.”

“Sounds like I do a lot of things while I’m asleep.”

“Well, don’t you always?” He continued playing, the melody getting faster and livelier, probably to represent an awake Marinette now.

“Guess I do.” She threw her legs over the side of the bed and watched Luka play for a while. “Is there breakfast?”

“Um. About that.”

“You got struck by inspiration?”

“Can you blame me?”

Marinette crawled out of the bed. After a short pit stop at the bathroom, she stumbled into the kitchen. She picked the biggest clean mug she could find, with ladybug dots on it. She wasn’t too humble to rep her own merch. She made herself instant coffee with milk and sugar, at which point Luka walked out of the bedroom to steal some of it.

“Hey. Make your own coffee.”

“I can’t. You’re too distracting.”

They’ve been together for five years now, since high school, and he still acted like they’ve just kissed for the first time and he was still trying to win her over with songs and romantic pick-up lines. Marinette was pretty sure she hit the jackpot. She made a second cup of coffee, shaking her head with a smile.

“Are you doing anything tonight, Marinette?” Luka asked, sipping his own coffee with much less enthusiasm. “Why don’t we go out somewhere?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I kind of have a project to finish. Maybe I’ll go to a library, I need some sources on British Regency fashion. They’ll kill me someday.” Projects, actually. Just three of them, which meant ‘pretty much caught up’ in superhero jargon. “What do you want to do?”

Luka’s face dropped.

“I got tickets for a concert tonight. I’m friends with the drummer, and I thought to would like it. Seems up your alley, you know?” He shot her a disappointed look and Marinette already knew she wouldn’t be able to resist. Projects could wait. “But if you can’t, maybe I’ll just give them to someone else.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Of course we’ll go!”

“I couldn’t tell you. You weren’t at home.”

“I have a cell phone.”

“A dead one, Marinette.”

He had a point. Even if he wasn’t the one to talk, seeing as he also had a habit of frequently disappearing for a whole night, looking for new exciting bands, getting to know other struggling musicians and such. She was pretty sure he wasn’t out on a prowl as Viperion during that time – she kept track of all superhero endeavours as her duty as a Guardian demanded.

“Never mind. I’ll just try to do some work now, and then we can leave, okay? What band is it?”

Luka touched her hand with a deep sigh.

“Don’t sacrifice yourself for me, please. Your studies are important. We can go out any night we want, and I imagine your professors aren’t as patient as me.”

Marinette entwined her fingers with his.

“No, this is important. We haven’t been out together for a while.”

“I should’ve asked you first.”

“My professors can wait, okay? It’s not like I’m in love with them.” She grinned at him and a shy smile returned to Luka’s face. “Unlike with another certain person, who happens to have concert tickets. Which is a pure coincidence.”

“I love you,” he said, which was a pretty big deal, because most of the time he preferred to play guitar with longing in his eyes. It caught her off guard every time he actually used words. “I’m so grateful to have someone like you by my side.”

“Me too.” Marinette stared at his long, slender fingers. She really hit the jackpot, didn’t she. A real lady luck. She ignored the fleeting memory of Bunnyx’ serious eyes. “You know what, fuck school. Let’s go back to bed.” She put her hand in his long, black hair and pulled him in for a long, passionate kiss.

“Your words are music to my ears.” He said after she finally let him to.

“But wait, what band is it again?”

* * *

“Is that Lila Rossi?”

“Who?”

“Fucking Lila Rossi!” Marinette had to scream to be heard over the band checking their instruments. Naturally, as soon as she opened her mouth the whole bar went silent. “Fuck,” she added, quietly this time, but the lead singer hanging out near the backstage exit didn’t seem to have noticed anything.

“A friend of yours?”

“More like my fucking nemesis,” Marinette scoffed. “I told you about her. The bitch I went to middle school with? The one who tried to ruin my life?”

“Wasn’t that the mayor’s daughter?”

“The other one.” Marinette was hit with the realisation that her teenage years weren’t exactly miraculous but decided against wondering what sort of impact the combined bullying powers of Chloe, Lila and Hawkmoth had on her in the long run. “The compulsive liar, I must’ve told you. She actually got me expelled.”

“Wait. You were expelled out of your middle school?”

“Briefly. She wasn’t that good of a liar. Should’ve actually broken her own fucking leg if she wanted me gone.” Luka’s eyes went wider and wider as she continued speaking. She was pretty sure she’d told him about Lila before, but maybe she forgot to mention the whole getting expelled part, as it really paled in comparison to some of her other misadventures.

“I thought the mayor’s daughter lied about you pushing her off the stairs. What was her name? Clara?”

“Chloe. And no, it was definitely Lila. Did you think they were the same person?”

“...I wish we’d gone to school together.”

“You’d get bullied by them too and I’d have to protect you.”

“Why was your school like that?”

Now that she thought about it, other people probably didn’t spend their teenage years both crushing on and getting bullied by local celebrities. It was a good school, and she wouldn’t exchange the good times she had for anything, but maybe being Ladybug wouldn’t put such a toll on her if she went to a regular school on the outskirts of Paris. And to be fair, although most people didn’t know it, Marinette was a celebrity too. Kind of.

“It sucked, but maybe I was just a good target? Juleka also went there.” Although she did spend the last few years getting over a morbid fear of public appearances. “Holy shit, I think it’s really her. Or maybe not-”

“Hi everyone, I’m Lila and this is Volpina!” What was with everybody using their akumatizations to promote themselves? Reflecta was bad enough, but apparently getting tattoos of their akumatized forms was a huge trend among cool Parisians. Officer Roger Raincomprix, now councilman Raincomprix, even used Rogercop in his ‘tough on crime’ election campaign. Mister Ramier would never do that.

She wondered, for a moment, how exactly did Lila end up a lead singer in an alternative band – she never seemed interested in music, or anything for that matter, other than lying – but the answer was pretty obvious. She’d do anything for attention, even learn to sing, apparently. Marinette couldn’t believe she sacrificed catching up on her projects to see Lila in the spotlight.

To make matters worse, the band pretty good. Could get better guitarist, maybe (Marinette was aware, however, that since she dated an amazing one, she wasn’t exactly objective in that matter). Luka obviously became unresponsive, as usually when listening to new music.

She didn’t even bother trying to get Luka’s attention, and besides, it’s not like there was something inherently wrong about liking Volpina’s music. Of course he could’ve shown her some solidarity, but she was used to music sending him to a whole other realm.

And maybe it was time to get over middle school drama, messed up as it had been. She remembered her parents’ faces when Lila’s necklace was found in her locker room. Jesus. Who does that to a classmate? And what, over a boy? Granted, Adrien Agreste had a weird effect on middle school girls and Marinette wasn’t a saint herself, but teenage Lila was downright sociopathic.

“Two vodkas,” she sighed, flopping down on the barstool. The bartender didn’t even look at her. Good. If he asked her about the concert, she might start screaming. It turned out Luka went after her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her, looking at shot glasses with a tinge of hope.

Marinette downed both shots, one right after the other, and looked at her boyfriend. He seemed confused and worried.

“So, I have good news and bad news…” said Luka hesitantly.

“Good first.” Answered Marinette dryly, gesturing to the bartender to repeat her order.

“So I got an offer to join a band,” started Luka, visibly trying to look as innocent as possible. “And the best part, it’s actually a money-making kind of band, you know? That’s what we always wanted, right? To make money doing what we love?”

“Sure,” Answered Marinette. “That’s great, mon Cherie! I’m really happy for you, it’s just… I’m a bit shook up about the Lila thing, sorry.”

“Oh… so the bad news.” Marinette had a feeling she might need those shots after all, and soon. She grasped first glass strongly. “See, the band that I’ll be joining…” Instead of finishing, he gestured towards the stage with his head.

Marinette took a shot.

“If you don’t want me to, I’ll tell them to look for someone else.” Luka looked like a beaten dog. Marinette suddenly felt like a monster. It was great news, and she would hate herself if she stood in the way of Luka’s dream.

“No, Luka,” she answered and hugged him tightly. “Go for it. I won’t stop you from playing in a band because of teenage squabbles, Mon Coeur.”

Next drink was a celebratory one. They went back under the stage, but had to leave early anyway because Marinette had a lot of things to show to Luka back at the apartment.


	5. Doing the Unstuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which we finally find out where the hell is Adrien.
> 
> Thanks everybody for all the support so far! It means a lot to us
> 
> Anyway, we hope you like it.

Adrien didn’t think his plan through thoroughly enough, it seemed. It’s not that he didn’t have enough time to plan his escape. But preparing for it was incredibly hard for him.

Problem right now, for example: how the hell was he supposed to know that there is no way to open a trunk from the inside? Having a handle inside a trunk seemed to him like a perfectly reasonable thing to do. In case somebody got into one accidentally, or maybe really, really needed to run away from home and no longer could use superpowers.

Chat Noir had many ways of dealing with problems that were unavailable to old boring Adrien. Like destroying stuff. Well, mainly destroying stuff.

Two guys who made weekly deliveries of food to the Agreste mansion, and who inadvertently provided Adrien the means of his escape were gone for a long time. It seemed they were done for the day. It was time for Adrien to destroy his way out without any magical doping. There should be a way to get through into the cabin of the car from here – after all, he had seen the seats folded inside before.

He tried to move as far to the back of the car as it was possible. He hoped nobody who worked for his father was close by – he couldn’t count on the fact that they won’t, well, deliver him right back home. This was the noisy part. He kicked hard with both legs. Nothing happened, except the car shook vigorously. He waited. Nothing. Apparently, the workers weren’t nearby. He kicked again. The backseat maybe moved an inch before snapping back into place.

It seemed Adrien had gotten quite out of shape over last years. Either that, or cars were pretty sturdy. Probably a bit of both. He needed to rest his legs between repeated attacks – there was no use getting tired and using kicks that were weaker and weaker. He took a minute. He needed to do it smarter.

As high on the seat as possible. One, solid hit. He focused and gave it all he had.

The seat moved, and this time it stayed there. Progress!

He repeated the process a few times, and lo and behold, the cabin was open. He crawled into the front part of the car and dragged a pack with his clothes behind him. He could finally sit in the seat next to the broken one. He didn’t really feel how uncomfortable and cramped the trunk was until now. First step to freedom was complete.

He could finally take a look at his surroundings. He was at a parking lot, which was to be expected. From the look of things, somewhere in the suburbs. No idea which side of Paris, of course. Maybe when he gets to the street, he’ll see the Eiffel Tower? It’s visible from everywhere around the city, right?

He tried the door, which was, obviously, locked. It was a long shot anyway. He checked the glove compartment. Curiously, no gloves, but a hammer! A hammer! Adrien thanked his lucky stars. Nobody looked, so he wasn’t ashamed to kiss said hammer.

A window turned into a hail of tiny pieces, and the car alarm blared, echoing around whichever-the-suburb-this-was. Oh.

Oh no.

He needed to get out as quickly as possible. Maybe it would be easier with his model’s figure, achieved by a harrowing regime of diet, but now it became much trickier. He finally squeezed through, but he was sure that all police officers in vicinity were already converging around him.

The fence wasn’t much of an obstacle, thankfully. But the Eiffel Tower was nowhere to be seen. He was in a totally unknown place, by himself, and the dusk was coming quickly. He picked a direction at random and started walking. He must have hurt his ankle while trying to break down the seat, so he was limping slightly.

I must look homeless right now, he thought, before it hit him. He didn’t have an exact idea of what he would do after breaking free. Whatever little money he’s saved up would probably last him for a few nights at a hostel, which he hoped would be enough to find a job and start over from there. Not that he had much of an idea how to go about getting a job either, but he figured everyone did it, so it couldn’t be that hard. Back when he was still allowed to leave the house, it seemed like every grocery store and souvenir stand was looking for employees.

None of the street names he passed by rang any bells, and nowhere did he see a single place where he could ask for a room to spend the night. He must’ve been farther away from the centre than he thought. Small street turned into a bigger one, probably leading to some kind of civilization. He turned west, towards the quickly setting sun. He checked the information on a bus stop he came upon – if he wasn’t mistaken, he was in a suburb east from Paris and was moving in a right direction.

Some way ahead, he spotted something he dreamed about – a metro station. He really was on the right track, and now he would be in Paris proper in no time. On the other side of the street he spotted a building even more enticing – a fast food restaurant. His stomach immediately reminded him that he hasn’t eaten in several hours.

After a rushed meal he went underground to catch a train to the city, where he was surely going to feel more comfortable. He didn’t know what his step was going to be, but he’d rather be a vagabond in a familiar place than in the middle of nowhere. He rode a train for several stops, and when he got out, it got to him how exhausted he was by this extremely long day. Pain from his ankle also did not help.

After he got out on the Place de la Republique and went back to the surface, it turned out there was a storm. He quickly ran back under the roof. He sat in a corner of the station. It’s surely gonna pass soon and he’ll be back on his way.

* * *

“Hey, you. Time to wake up.”

For a second Adrien thought it was his father, who found him and somehow took him back home while he was sleeping. What a nightmare. Luckily, it was just a friendly police man.

“Hey, you hear me? Wakey wakey. No sleeping in the metro.” In his half-asleep state, Adrien was taken aback by the sight of a police officer who wasn’t Roger Raincomprix. While he was aware that they existed, it still felt a bit weird to see one. “What are you, deaf? Jesus, not again...”

“I’m sorry, officer,” Adrien quickly replied in his most polite, talking-to-adults-voice. “Good morning. I didn’t know-”

Well, guess the voice didn’t work so well since he was actually an adult now. The policeman sighed and looked even angrier than before.

“Just get the hell away from here. I don’t have all day.”

“Alright, I’m leaving. Sorry for the trouble.”

He had no idea what time it was, but he couldn’t have gotten much sleep. He was still completely exhausted, but law called for it, so it was time to get going. He reached out for his bag.

His bag, containing everything he decided to take with him from his previous life into the next. Mostly the barest of necessities; a bit of money, which was all he had for himself, a toothbrush, change of underwear.

It was gone.

He frantically checked his shirt pocket. The picture was still there. Of course, everything else was still gone, but there was nothing to worry about, because lucky for him, the perfect person to help was standing right in front of him.

“To be honest, officer, it looks like my bag is missing. Somebody must have stolen it. It was an Adidas duffel bag, with three stripes-”

“Sure, kid, and I lost my Gucci hat. Get away from here, I have better things to do.”

“But-”

“Out!” Adrien flinched. Okay, the situation was getting uncomfortable. “Get your ass up and out this goddamn metro station right this second, or you’re getting a fine. I’ve been nice to you long enough.”

There was no way he could afford a fine of any kind. There was no use arguing. Maybe he could report it at the station later, to some normal, less grumpy officer.

“Okay, okay.” He got up from the floor with his hands up, turned around, followed by the policeman’s judging gaze, and tried to walk away as quick as possible, but was stopped by sharp pain in his ankle. “I’m leaving! I’m leaving!”

Looking on the bright side, it was certainly easier to limp up the stairs without a bag on his shoulder. On the darker side, all dreams of sleeping under a roof again had to be abandoned. At least for now. There had to be someone in the city competent enough to help him.

Outside, it was completely dark, and a few stars could be seen in the sky above Paris. It was much colder than when he entered the metro, but there was still quite a few people around, which meant it couldn’t be long after midnight.

He passed by a few cafes, an art gallery, stared longingly at a hotel. A church seemed like a good place to hide - a priest or a nun wouldn’t threaten him with a fine, probably – but it was closed until next morning.

Sleeping at a park was a desperate solution and he didn’t really want to do it, but the park he arrived at wasn’t just any dark, suspicious place. Place de Vosges was the scenery of some of his best memories, back from when he was still a relatively normal person who left the house and talked to people. That’s where his classmates from middle school would hang out. One of them, Marinette, lived somewhere nearby, in her parents’ bakery. He remembered visiting it a few times and wishing his house was anything like it.

Place de Vosges was a good place. Nothing bad would happen to him there. Not even rain would dare ruin his memories.

* * *

“Bon soir, pretty boy” said raspy voice from the shadows. Adrien jerked himself up. He vaguely saw three silhouettes in front of him, looking even more menacing in the light of a nearby street light. He was quickly at his feet. The three men were still walking closer. He retreated under their pressure, until he was leaning on a tree.

“I have nothing to give you, guys”, said Adrien with a tinge of fear in his voice. “I was already robbed once today.”

“We’ll see about that”

Adrien managed to dodge the first punch, but not the second. Or the third, for that matter. Three men without superpowers would be no match for Chat Noir, but he wasn’t Chat Noir. Nevertheless, he counterattacked viciously. For a moment it seemed like might have a chance to get away, but a glimmer of hope didn’t last long. His assailants didn’t fight fair – not that he had any right to expect otherwise. He was thrown on the ground. Then the kicks started.

It seemed his career as a vagrant was bound to be a short and painful one.

“Lucky Charm!”

She swooped on the robbers so fast he could hardly see her. He didn’t really have to, he saw her work so many times. He knew she looked beautiful. Suddenly he felt his old heartbreak more than the bruises he just got from the unknown men.

Restraining all three of them couldn’t have taken Ladybug more than half a minute. She turned to Adrien. For a minute he was sure she’s gonna recognize him, but if longer hair and a week old beard couldn’t conceal his identity, then purple bruises quickly forming all over his face surely did the trick.

“This was my Lucky Charm,” said Ladybug, handing him something. He took it. It was a cell phone. “Do you have anyone you can call for help?”

Adrien could think of only one person he could call. He hoped that years of isolation didn’t cost him his best friend. He knew his number by heart – his father would always check his phone and disapproved of any friends he deemed a bad influence, which meant all of them.

“Hey man, I’m sorry to call you out of the blue like this, but I really need your help. Can you pick me up from Place des Vosges?”

“Sure, Adrien, I’ll be on my way” answered Nino without a second of hesitation. Adrien gave the phone back to his lady.

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

Just like that, the bruises faded and Adrien felt a hundred times better. Ladybug turned to him.

“I hope everything is gonna be okay now,” she said with a smile. “Bonne chance!”


End file.
